


Love is a fault; so be it.

by orphan_account



Series: The Night Comes When The Day is Gone [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Childcare, Depression, F/M, Gen, Poverty, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 13:53:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Fantine was innocence floating high over fault."</p><p>A modern retelling of Fantine's downfall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is a fault; so be it.

_“The young men were comrades; the young girls were friends. Such loves are always accompanied by such friendships.”_

                   Victor Hugo, “Les Misérables”

Favourite was newly returned from London. Renamed by her host family and baptized by boat-ride in the Thames, she was basking in her sudden sophistication. Gone was the gangly, giggling Annabel Carter. Now she was Favourite. Favourite plucked her eyebrows and wore red lipstick and spelt “color” with a “u”. Favourite secured the attentions of Blanchevelle. Favourite smoked clove cigarettes.

Fantine admired Favourite immensely. Fantine had never been to England; she’d never travelled out of the state of New York (a visit out of the city was rare). She didn’t pluck her eyebrows because her hair was so fair that it was useless. She wore lip balm with flavors with “cherry berry” and “sunny honey”. She was a terrible speller at the best of times and smoking made her feel nauseous. Still, she had Felix.

They had met through Favourite, at one of the smoky parties she had taken to throwing after her study abroad. Fantine hated them, though she wouldn’t show it; they were dark and the music was sad and strange men always touched her when she leaned over to grab a Dr. Pepper out of the fridge. Still, she went because Favourite was her friend and sometimes after everyone left, the girls would sit together and paint their toenails and Fantine liked that.

 _He_ was sitting in the kitchen, smoking a joint and looking grimly out the window as if Favourite’s dying geraniums depressed him to no end. Fantine always remembered how she felt sorry for him at first; he was clearly older than the rest of the party and she could see where his chestnut hair was starting to thin. He noticed her staring and Fantine blushed and he held out his joint and she said no, _“childhood asthma.”_

“You’re pretty as a picture,” he said. “Are you twelve or thirteen?”

Fantine would have been more offended that he thought her so young if his eyes hadn’t been fixed firmly at her chest. _It is a ploy,_ she told herself. _He likes you so he’s teasing you. That’s what boys do._ So she smiled prettily, showing all of her white teeth and leaned against the fridge.

“Sixteen, but it was a good guess.” She said.

“You got your whole life ahead of you, kid.”

Fantine didn’t drink; liquor burned her throat and drunkenness embarrassed her. Still, when she looked at Felix looking at her ( _like some kind of animal_ ) she wondered if maybe the punch had been spiked. The room spun wonderfully and his eyes, his soft brown eyes, bore into her sternum. She wondered if he was not just looking at her breasts but into her soul.

“I guess I do have my whole life ahead of me,” Fantine said shakily. “But so do you.”

Felix laughed, a rumbling cackle that warmed the room. “I’ve been an undergrad for six years. Besides, I’ve never had your charm.”

The rest of the night was fuzzy, like a Polaroid faded with time. There were distinct snatches of memory: a dizzying waltz with Felix, a gentle, chaste first kiss and a cold, unfamiliar hand at the small of her back.

Favourite supplied some of the details later; she was pleased to “corrupt” her virginal friends and embellished the story where she felt it lacked color.

“We cheered when he took you in his arms. The whole party did,” Favourite said, sucking in on her cigarette. Felix had kissed Fantine in a back room, where only a drunken Dahlia had seen them but Favourite had just read a novel where a couple kissed publically to racuous cheering and thought it sounded romantic.

“He’s so smart. He wants to be an investment banker,” Fantine said. Favourite blew a stream of smoke at her friend’s face.

“Does he now? He’ll be sure to make a lot of money then,” She whispered conspiratorially. Her voice edged on sarcasm but Fantine, _stupid_ virgin Fantine, she looked up like her prince had rode in on a stallion. Favourite thought a horse might make her story wholly unbelievable, so she invented a car.

“His parents have a convertible and they let him drive it sometimes. It’s red and has leather seats,” Favourite said. A half-truth: Felix’s wealthy great-aunt had a minivan and he drove it to take her to doctor’s appointments. The truth might have endeared Fantine to him even more but Favourite, bored with America after a month home, was on a roll.

“He told me that your eyes sparkle and you teeth are like pearls.”

Felix very well may have thought that— Fantine did have wonderful teeth— but if he did, he never told Favourite.

By the end of the smoke break, Favourite had found a new hobby and Fantine was in love. She had never been in love before and had rarely had crushes. She was cheerful, modest and on the giggly side around boys. She was undoubtedly pretty but only in the last six months had adolescence transformed her from “cherubic” to “hot”. Her grandmother, the family breadwinner, dressed her in clothes that may have been fashionable in the 1950’s. Her mother sometimes gave Fantine thongs for Christmas, when she remembered when Christmas was.

Favourite had had many love affairs. At eighteen she was drawn and cold, her thin lips in a constant pout. She debated having them surgically enlarged and played up the difference with bright lipsticks. She kissed everyone she loved and she tended to love most men who smiled at her. Sometimes they loved her back and when they didn’t, she felt stupid and picked up pamphlets for Botox. She liked the idea of Fantine getting her heart broken. She liked the idea of not being the one with the personal drama, the one that cried on the phone at the mall. She thought some sex and drugs would be good for Fantine. Besides, Felix would, in his way, be gone in a month. No harm done.


End file.
